Life, Liberty, and Pursuit

by Susan Kaye Quinn

  “Oh.” It hadn’t occurred to her that Carter could still be interested in her. But the way he was acting—back to the same, sweet boy he had been when they first met—it made some sense. Addison paid more attention to the social scene at ASH and understood these kinds of things better than Eliza did. She was mostly clocking time until she could get out of high school. “Well, I have no intention of going out with him either.”

  She could hear a sigh of relief. Did Addison really think Eliza would go out with Carter? She was surprised Addison even thought that was a possibility.

  “Good,” Addison said. “Are you okay?”

  No, she was not okay. She had maniacally checked the mail when she got home, even though there was no possibility of a letter. She was hopelessly in love with David, but would probably never see him again. The guy who had ditched and humiliated her last fall was trying to date her. The only decent guy in her life was Nicolas, who also wanted to be her boyfriend—which got worse the more she thought about it. She was definitely not okay.

  “I’m fine,” she lied. “Just tired. I’m going to get some sleep.” Life had to look better in the morning.

  “Okay.” Addison didn’t sound convinced. “See you tomorrow.”

  Eliza trudged up the stairs, washed up, and pulled on pajamas. She opened the window to clear out the stuffiness of the room and lay down on top of the covers on the bed.

  That night she had another dream about David.

  She was running through the cobblestone streets of Venice, the bright Mediterranean sun bouncing off the high walled shops and making the polished stones shine. She had to be at a certain pier at noon, but she was hopelessly lost in the maze of bridges and narrow streets. The map clutched in her hand was a useless jumble of lines and symbols. Breaking out onto a large stone bridge, arched above a wide canal, she saw it—a tiny pier, jutting from a row of ancient stone buildings. At the end of the pier was a gondola, and David stood balanced, feet planted wide, as the boat swayed with the water. She ran down the bridge, and he reached his arms wide to welcome her. His face was changed, more angular and somber. Leaping into his arms, she made the boat tip, but he held her tight and they stayed upright. When he pulled her up to kiss her, there was no sadness, only joy and the light-headed feeling that comes when too much emotion crowds through at once. There was something she needed to tell him, but she forgot what it was. Somewhere the massive gong of a clock started to sound. The noise reverberated off the hard surfaces of the buildings, reflecting back a hundred echoes, but she still couldn’t remember. As the final gong rang, it came to her. “I love you, David.” A smile lit up his face …

  She awoke to the morning heat flowing in the window she had left open the night before. The sun crawled across her bed. The dream lingered, leaving a feeling both sweet and urgent. She grabbed a sheet of stationery and started writing. She didn’t want to think too much—she wanted to write before she lost that warm feeling from the dream or had time to think it through. She stuffed the letter in an envelope and addressed it to David. She stared at it, hand trembling, and ran to the mailbox before she could change her mind.

  Her heart felt light the entire day, and she couldn’t entirely explain it. Perhaps it was the dream or the letter. Perhaps it was the way Lily held her hand on the way to lunch. In just a few short days, she had become very attached to this adorable little girl. Perhaps it was Carter’s note, saying he was sorry, so she could finally put that episode behind her. Addison noticed, but didn’t ask, being her reserved self today.

  Addison suggested that they go out tomorrow, Friday, for dinner with the counselors again. She brightened when Eliza said yes, but then frowned when Eliza asked to be put on pickup duty again.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Because I want a chance to talk to Carter again.” She needed to put that business behind her for good.

  “Why?” Addy said again, eyebrows arched in concern. They were putting away the supplies while the kids leafed through the growing collection of poetry books she had brought in, examining the pictures of fantasy creatures and mythical beasts.

  “I only want to tell him I accept his apology. It’s okay, Addison. Nothing bad is going to happen.” She wasn’t sure why her friend was so concerned. “I promise I won’t go out for ice cream with him again, okay?” Addison shook her head and turned away.

  Eliza didn’t get put back on pickup duty until the next day. She was going to miss Lily—next week she would be in Junior Chefs and Eliza would be teaching Fairies and Fairytales to another round of campers. She and Lily agreed to find each other at lunchtime so Lily could share her Teddy Grahams.

  Eliza was waiting for Carter, clipboard in hand, when he pulled up in his casually elegant clothes and expensive sports car. He looked like a prep student headed for some rich private college. She didn’t know where, or if, he was going to college—and it didn’t really matter to her. He grinned, pushing his sunglasses up to see her better.

  “Hi, Eliza.” His eyes were expectant. She wanted to quash any ideas he had right away.

  “Hi, Carter. Listen, I read your note and I accept your apology. I appreciate that you, you know, took time to write it, and I’m glad we can move past that now.” That didn’t come out quite right, because his grin grew wider.

  “Good. Great! I really am sorry, and I want to make it up to you.” She opened her mouth to stop him, but he kept going. “Look, maybe we could go grab some dinner tonight? I mean, later, not right now—I have to take Lily home.” He was talking quickly and thinking faster.

  “Carter!” He finally saw the frown on her face, bringing him up short. “I’m not going to go out with you. I only wanted to let you know that I accept your apology. Okay?” She tried to be as clear as she could.

  “Oh.” His eyes clouded over, and he seemed to be thinking furiously. She took that moment to call “Lily Hampton—Fairies and Fairytales” into her walkie-talkie. The sooner this was over, the better.

  “I, um … ” He spoke slowly. “I didn’t mean that we would go out on a date. I meant, you know, just as friends, maybe have a chance to talk.” He looked hopefully at her.

  “I already have plans with friends tonight.” It would be a disaster if Carter showed up for pizza with Addison, her friends, and Nicolas, and there was no way she was going to invite him. Lily arrived and climbed into the car. Eliza glanced at the back seat, checking that Lily was buckled. Lily waved her magic wand at Eliza, the one they had made in camp today.

  “Bye, Miss Eliza! See you next week!”

  “See you soon, Lily,” she said. Carter had a smile back on his face. She wasn’t sure why.

  “Another time, then. See you later, Eliza.” As he pulled away, she was left wondering why he thought there would be another time.

  * * *

  The weekends were no different from the weekdays in boot camp, but when Monday of Week Two arrived, it felt like a triumph. David hadn’t washed out, and in spite of his aching muscles, he felt he could go the duration. Having Clayton as a bunkmate was making life better, too, or at least more entertaining. Clayton’s tendency to play jokes—and maddeningly getting away with them—broke the monotony.

  David’s hair had grown a little, but he was convinced that Clayton had talked the barber into leaving his hair longer than the rest of them—either that, or his hair grew unusually fast. Hair length was status, and David still looked like a fresh-cut new arrival, whereas Clayton was sporting a mass of blond sprouts that got visibly longer by the day. They received their regular uniforms this morning, so at least they no longer stood out in their smurfs. They also got measured for their dress uniforms. Clayton made a great show of modeling his until the chief showed up. He had an uncanny ability to straighten up right before his antics got noticed, having some kind of sixth sense for staying out of trouble.

  The classroom training r
amped up, and it was easier to stay awake. Of course the PT, drills, and general chastisement continued. They were training for the Confidence Course, and Chief McMillan was describing what they could expect. It was a team event, complete with oxygen masks for fire-fighting, climbing through portholes with sea bags, and tossing life rings. That, of course, made him think of Eliza.

  How was it that the smallest things kept bringing his thoughts back to her? He wondered if she still wore the lifesaver ring he gave her, and he pictured her touching it. A feeling of satisfaction mixed with sorrow went through him with that mental picture, and he realized he’d missed the second half of Chief McMillan’s explanation. He was probably going to regret that. Clayton was on his team, so hopefully he would fill him in. Clayton stood next to him, eyes attentive on the chief, seeming to scan his face for something. Extra clues? He wasn’t sure. Clayton was always studying people as though their faces held the mysteries of the universe.

  Clayton was also headed to the Defense Language Institute after boot camp, and David had a suspicion that he knew this before he sought out David’s top bunk. Clayton was well informed on everything that went on in their ship, and he apparently had already mastered Japanese, which struck David as strange for a Southern boy. But there was a lot more to his bunkmate than appeared on the surface.

  Clayton looked at him sideways, noticing his reverie, and gave him a quick quirky smile that David was sure no one else noticed. When the chief looked their way, Clayton was the picture of the attentive recruit, whereas David was left staring at Clayton.

  “Am I boring you, recruit?” said Chief McMillan.

  “No, Chief!” David shouted, hoping he was loud enough. Clayton was biting back a laugh, which made David want to hit him.

  “What’s your name, recruit?” asked the chief softly. Damn! He was in for it now.

  “Seaman Recruit Marek, Chief!” he yelled, eyes locked on the chief.

  “Seaman Recruit Marek, can you tell me the name of the standard equipment you will be using for shipboard fire-fighting?” The chief raised his voice so all the recruits in their division could hear. He was doomed.

  “No, Chief!” As David dropped to do his fifty push-ups, he could swear he heard Clayton laugh. Seaman Recruit Lane would regret sleeping in the bunk above him tonight.

  Soon after, they marched through the damp heat to chow. They had exactly ten minutes to eat once the last recruit in their division was seated, but he and Clayton were at the front of the ranks today, so they had a little more time. David concentrated on his food, arms still aching from the extra PT. Clayton watched him eat, getting on his nerves.

  “What were you thinking about, back at the ship?” Clayton’s eyes were lit up.

  “Wondering why I’m getting in trouble when you’re the one acting up,” he answered between bites of mystery sandwich.

  “Well, I can’t help you there, son, but I aim to figure out what’s got you all tied up in knots.” He said it softly, so even the recruits sitting next to them, hastily downing their chow, probably didn’t hear.

  “I’m fine.” He was not the least bit interested in sharing his thoughts with Perfect Recruit Clayton. He was starting to wonder if Clayton could read his mind, anyway.

  “Sure, sure you are. Especially if you like pushups.” Clayton was biting back a laugh again. David narrowed his eyes at him, refusing to take the bait. Lunch was soon over, and then they had classroom duty with Petty Officer Reynolds. Knowing she was susceptible to Clayton’s charms was just another reminder how Clayton got away with things no other recruit could. David sighed, trying to keep his focus off her Eliza-like mane of hair and on Naval Customs and Courtesies.

  Later that night, after several kicks to Clayton’s top bunk so he knew David didn’t forget those fifty extra pushups, he settled in for his nightly Eliza musings. By now, she must have started helping her friend Addison as a camp counselor. In his mind, he could see her laughing with her friend, relaxing after a day of working with little kids. He imagined she was carrying on with her life, as she should, forgetting about him and getting ready for Princeton in the fall. This gave him a pain in his chest that he tried to ignore. He obviously hadn’t forgotten her, but he was trying to be realistic. She had a life to live, and it wasn’t likely to include him. The sooner she forgot about him, the better. Still, he couldn’t help wishing that she wouldn’t, at least for a while …

  Maybe he could call her. He had another phone privilege coming up at the end of the week. He quickly killed that thought. It was hard enough to say good-bye, so hard he couldn’t do it properly. He should leave her alone, not remind her that he was still thinking about her every night. He sighed, and he heard Clayton shifting in the bunk above him. Better to let sleep take his mind to a place where he and Eliza could actually be together, since that place wasn’t here and wasn’t now—and probably never would be.

  Chapter 13

  Dreams

  Tuesday was even better than Monday, with his muscles appearing to repair themselves overnight. The day passed with the same routine, quickly becoming entrenched in his head: PT, drills, classroom duty, quick trip to the mess hall. Tonight they were starting Night Study to get ready for their written exams at the end of the week. Petty Officer Reynolds had drummed Naval Chain of Command into their PT-fogged brains until he could recite it in his sleep. Still, he really didn’t want to fail the test, so he cracked his book open. Once settled into their seats in the study hall, Clayton seemed unimpressed with the idea of further study. And David already knew that a bored Clayton was a dangerous Clayton.

  “Whatever you’re planning, you’re on your own,” David whispered across the table. Clayton gave him a wide-eyed innocent look that said Whatever can you mean, Seaman Recruit Marek? David almost lost it and laughed out loud, which would have cost him a hundred pushups. He glared at Clayton through his barely suppressed smirk. Most of the other recruits were intent on using the time wisely, but they had caught Petty Officer Reynolds’ eye, and she strolled their way. David glued his eyes to his book.

  She hovered over them a moment before speaking. “Seaman Recruit Gunner Lane, is there a problem?”

  David couldn’t help looking up at Clayton, trying to keep his eyes from bugging out. Clayton never got called out. And his name was Gunner?

  Clayton sat ramrod straight in his chair, glaring a warning at David. But his face softened as he turned to PO Reynolds. “Yes, ma’am. I’m hoping to make Recruit Petty Officer, but I’m not sure I’ve got the chain of command down.” Clayton’s face softened into a plea so pathetic, David couldn’t believe he would try it. “The chief’s never going to let that pass.”

  David tried mightily to kill the laugh that threatened to erupt from his throat, and ended up coughing to cover the strangled noise that he made. PO Reynolds narrowed her eyes at David, and then said to Clayton, “Page fifty-three.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am.” Clayton made a great show of looking for page fifty-three as PO Reynolds drifted away to harass other recruits.

  As soon as she was safely out of earshot, David choked out, “Gunner?” The laugh threatened to break out again.

  Clayton leveled a cold stare at him. “Call me that again, son, and you’ll wish ya hadn’t,” he said very quietly. David raised his eyebrows and bit back a laugh. Clayton had a nerve that could be stepped on after all. David tucked that away and pretended to study, leafing through the manual. Whatever Clayton had planned earlier failed to materialize before they left study hall.

  After their evening PT and showers, they had a few minutes of peace in the ship. Recruits milled around talking or stretched out on their bunks, exhausted. He wanted to grill Clayton about PO Reynolds and possibly get in a few jabs about Clayton’s real name, when David heard someone call his name.

  “Seaman Recruit Marek, mail call!” Recruit Petty Officer Simpson w
as handling mail call. David barely caught the small brown package as it sailed over the racks. It wasn’t much bigger than an envelope, with what looked like Tea’s handwriting on it. Clayton leaned close, checking it out, eyebrows arched. Whatever Tea was sending him couldn’t be too serious, so he let Clayton watch as he unwrapped the package. Out fell two smaller envelopes, a small note, and a picture that fell face down on his bunk. He picked it up and turned it over—it was the photo Tea had taken of Eliza and him at dinner on the cruise. His heart leaped up in his throat seeing her chocolate brown eyes shining out at him from the picture, dark curls falling over that incredible purple dress. His memories were a dim echo of the real Eliza gazing at him from the photo. He sat down heavily on the bed, staring at the picture clutched in his hand and flashing back to that night when they were a couple.

  “Is that Eliza?” Clayton asked, peering at the picture. David turned and stared at Clayton, all but convinced he could read David’s mind. He was certain he had never mentioned Eliza.

  Clayton smiled and rested a hand lightly on his shoulder. “You talk about her all the time … at night.” Without another word, Clayton hoisted himself up on the top bunk, giving David privacy. He winced—his night-time with Eliza was supposed to be private. Looking back at the picture, he remembered the note and the letters.

  The note was from Tea, saying she had received two letters from Eliza. She would have forwarded them sooner, but she had just returned from Europe. Two letters … from Eliza. He stared at the envelopes. They were cream colored and seemed like her: simple, beautiful, unassuming. He picked them up. Her handwriting was pretty, but slightly messy, as if she had written in a hurry. One was postmarked before the other, so he opened the one sent first.

  It was short, and he read it through quickly. And then read it again, and once more. It was as though he was thirsty for it and couldn’t get enough, knowing that she had written it just for him. It didn’t say much, although she managed to call herself foolish. There was one part he particularly liked—I would love to hear—he didn’t have much time before lights out, so he forced himself to put it down and tore open the second letter. This one was much longer, and he didn’t breathe the entire first time that he read it.